Royally Damaged

by Crowne, K. C.

  "Woah, wait. I didn't realize that's what you meant," I giggled.

  My bottoms were now off. I saw them float up and reach the surface of the water as his mouth moved even closer to the sacred, sweet spot between my legs. As his tongue worked its way inward, I grew wetter than I'd ever been. So wet it was as though ever cell in my body had turned to pure liquid heat.

  He parted my legs wider and latched his lips onto my clit. I immediately let out an involuntary scream and tangled my fingers into his hair. He lapped at me, softly at first, then wrapped his lips around me, sucking until I lost control of my legs and began to tremble.

  His tongue was flat against me, his lips like pure silk against my skin. The motion of the water had me rocking rhythmically against him. He licked me hard, then harder still, his tongue moving in grinding circles over my sensitive nub.

  Every cell in my body became filled with pleasure. Closing my eyes, I felt as though I was disappearing, my whole body drifting on a wave of euphoria. I bit down on my lip to silence myself, but it was pointless, and a series of unstoppable screams escaped my lungs.

  A fast orgasm began to rush through me, starting from somewhere deep inside me I had forgotten. It worked its way out of me like a great knot of tension unfurling itself, releasing all my troubles as I was filled with pure heat, pure ecstasy, pure pleasure.

  I gripped my thighs around his face, then, just when I thought it couldn't get any better, he slipped a finger inside me, then another and it was game over. I reached a fast and desperate climax, screaming as I ripped at his hair.

  Shaking violently, my thighs tightened around him as his fingers pushed in deep inside me. A scream escaped my throat that rang out over the sea. Then I was left weak, my legs no longer working. It was as though every problem in my life had been sucked right out of me so I was nothing but a weightless being filled with bliss.

  I let myself float on the surface of the water, the sun on my face as my body felt as though it had melted. Phil emerged and shook the water from his hair.

  “That's quite a special talent,” I said, my words coming out as little more than breath.

  The two of us floated for a moment. I had never been so relaxed in my life and had to fight to not fall asleep.

  “I think you might need these,” he said, breaking the silence.

  He pushed my bikini bottoms toward me.

  “Guess I can't really get back on board without them.”

  I fumbled to secure them around my hips just as the sound of an engine approached. Looking up, I saw the boat make its way toward us, Christy hanging over the side waving her goggles like a flag.

  “Where the hell have you two been?” she yelled.

  Her voice pierced through my head, destroying the mood. We had no choice but to drag ourselves back on board as everyone stared at us.

  “We thought we lost you down there,” said Josh, obviously worried. “You were supposed to stay with the group.”

  Christy had a strange look in her eye. I followed her gaze to my bikini bottoms and realized I'd put them back on inside out.

  “Although it looks like you had fun without us,” she said, suppressing a giggle.

  “I have no idea what you're talking about,” I smiled, and walked away.

  The boat was small, nothing like the luxurious yacht Phil had taken me out on. As I squeezed my way inside, sidling past the grey-haired captain in the floral shirt, I pushed my way into the cramped room situated across from the bathroom.

  Rusted bunk beds were pressed against the wall leaving only a foot or so beside it to maneuver. Looking at the strewn, flowery shirts across the bottom bed, and the half-full ashtray I figured it must have been where the captain slept.

  Fiddling with the ties on my bikini bottoms, I turned them the right way around and searched the room for a mirror. There was only a small, shaving mirror pinned to the wall I had to bend down to look in.

  I barely recognizing myself. I wondered who the rosy-cheeked young girl was. I looked about ten years younger and there was a sparkle in my eye I hadn't remembered seeing since I was a teenager.

  “Lizzie?”

  The door creaked open to reveal Phil, snorkel in one hand and goggles in the other.

  “Couldn't stay up there with your friends staring at me.”

  “I take it they heard me screaming.”

  “They probably heard you screaming back at the hotel.”

  I couldn't stop myself giggling like a schoolgirl. Sitting on the bottom bunk, I felt the sway of the water beneath the boat.

  “That was really something,” I said. “One to tick off the bucket list.”

  “What else do you wanna tick off?”

  He sat down beside me, his hand on my knee.

  “I can't believe what I'm going to say,” he said, dropping his snorkel and goggles beside the ash tray.

  There was a faraway look in his eye and as he sat, he bobbed his knee up and down nervously.

  “I think I'm...”

  He stopped himself and ran his hands down his face.

  “What?”

  “Ah, nothin'. Forget it.”

  He tucked my hair behind my ear and kissed my cheek.

  “I just wanted to tell you that you're beautiful.”

  “Hmmm... Something tells me you're stalling. What were you really going to tell me?”

  A rush of color flooded his cheeks as he looked deep into my eyes.

  “I was going to say that...”

  From down the hall came the sound of Louise shrieking before her footsteps darted into the bathroom across the hall.

  “I was going to say that I'd really like to give things a shot.”

  “What do mean? You and me?”

  “Yeah, you and me.”

  The knot that had vanished inside me returned.

  “Oh, Phil. There can't ever be a you and me.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Because this is all just a sham, right? You're my fake date for the week.”

  “Are you serious? You still think we're a sham? That, out there on the water, you think that was fake? The time we've spent together? That was all just fake? Just nothing at all?”

  “Well, no but, you know what I mean, Phil. You've said it yourself, you've never had a girlfriend before and I'm definitely not looking for a boyfriend.”

  He stood up and paced up and down the tiny room, tugging at his hair.

  “You really don't think what we have is real?”

  “I think it's amazing,” I said. “But it can't go on. How are we supposed to be together anyway? You live here on this tropical island and I live back home, sleeping on my friend's couch while working a boring office job with my ex.”

  “Fuck all of that,” he said. “Stay here with me.”

  “You can't be serious. I couldn't do that.”

  “Why not?”

  I didn't have an answer. My mind was telling me no. Of course I couldn't just up and leave my old life behind and start afresh on the island with a man I barely knew. What kind of madness would that be? But at the same time, at the back of my head, there was a niggling voice telling me I only lived once.

  “I just can't,” I said. “I have a job to go home to.”

  “A job you hate.”

  “I'm sorry, Phil. I just can't do this.”

  I moved to walk away, reaching for the door handle, but his hand landed on my shoulder.

  “Don't, Lizzie. Please.”

  “Let me go.”

  He followed me down the hall, obviously not giving up so easily.

  “Just forget about us once the wedding's over,” I told him. “As soon as I'm gone you can move onto another girl. Then another. I doubt you'll have difficulty replacing me.”

  “Don't be like that,” he said. “I don't want any other girl.”

  I stopped and turned around, eager to see if he was telling the truth.

  “Guys like you don't settle down,” I said. “You've said it yourself.”r />
  “But I want to,” he said.

  Looking into his eyes, I wanted to see that he was lying. Only then would I be able to walk away from him easily, but when I looked at his face, all I could see was the truth.

  “I really think you could be the one,” he said.

  “The one? Don't play games with me.”

  I spun on my heel and made for the stairs.

  “I mean it,” he insisted, reaching for my hand. “I think I'm falling for you.”

  He had to be joking. Falling for me? He barely knew me.

  “Is this a joke, Phil?”

  He held back, a look of hurt crossing his eyes.

  “How could I joke about something like that?”

  Louise emerged from the bathroom and squeezed in between us as she edged her way back up on deck.

  “What are you two doing hiding down here?” she asked. “Christy's been waiting for you.”

  “Sorry,” I said. “I'll be up in a minute.”

  “We're heading back to the shore. Weather's starting to turn.”

  She stomped her way up the stairs with her squelchy wetsuit dripping all over the floor.

  “I better find Christy,” I said, “I've been ignoring her all day.”

  “Wait. Can't be talk about this?”

  “There's nothing to talk about,” I said.

  “Us, Lizzie. Can't we talk about us?”

  “There is no us,” I reminded him.

  “Then what are we doing right now?”

  “Having fun,” I said. “Having a whole lot of fun.”

  I left him downstairs and found Christy on the deck. Out of nowhere she had produced a glass of gin and tonic and was lying with her feet up on one of the equipment boxes.

  “Trouble in paradise?” she asked.

  “There's no trouble at all.”

  She raised a single eyebrow at me but I didn't elaborate. A few raindrops began to land on deck, the first since we'd arrived on the island. Above us, the clouds darkened taking on an almost apocalyptic quality.

  “Things turn fast,” said Christy as she watched the rain fall.

  “Don't they just?”

  We sailed on through the rain until the harbor came into view. Looking back at the sea, I saw nothing but a wall of grey. It was hard to imagine that only an hour ago I was in heaven, the sun on my face and pure ecstasy between my legs. That felt like forever ago now, and the rain was already washing away the memory.

  Phil

  There is no us.

  The words had been swimming around my head since I'd heard them. How could she say that? How could she dismiss me so easily?

  After she'd returned to her friends it was as though I didn't exist, and once we'd arrived back on land, she'd disappeared up to her room without even looking back at me.

  I was alone now in my suite, staring at my reflection wondering where I was going wrong.

  I'm a Prince for Christ's sake, what's more desirable than that? Why can't she see me the way other women do?

  Usually, I had to fight them off me, but Lizzie --she was something else entirely. It was like she was completely impervious to my charm, as though I had no effect on her whatsoever.

  I was just a bit of fun to her. Nothing else.

  Then it dawned on me. That was how I had seen women before her. Just fun. Just a way to have an orgasm. Flinging myself back on the bed, I stared at the ceiling. The usual sunshine was nowhere to be found so all the light had been sucked out the room.

  The walls were as grey as the sky and as miserable as my mood.

  I need a drink.

  Rolling off the bed, I spruced myself up, slipped into a clean suit and slicked back my hair. You devastatingly handsome bastard, I told myself. You could have any woman you want. You don't need that American girl. If she can't appreciate you then a thousand others women will.

  If she didn't know a good thing when she saw it then I wasn't hanging around waiting on her like a lovesick little boy. I didn't need her.

  Yet as much as I told myself this, I knew it wasn't true. I'd never needed anyone so much in my entire life. She was all I thought about, all I'd ever wanted. In that moment, it felt as though every woman before her had never existed.

  Why doesn't she want me?

  I tortured myself with this thought over and over again. Making my way down to the bar, I planned on knocking back as much scotch as it took to obliterate any thoughts of her.

  As usual, all eyes were on me as I entered the VIP suite. A couple of girls were sat at the bar in miniscule sequins dresses trying their best to seductively flutter their eyelashes in my direction.

  “Scotch on the rocks,” I said to the barman.

  He gave me a curt nod and slid a glass over to me. Beside me, the girls' eyes were burning into the side of my head. I turned and gave them a polite smile. From the way they looked at me, I knew I could have them both in my bed within the hour if I wanted to. Maybe even within the next ten minutes.

  They began whispering to each other, hiding behind their hair and hands like teenagers. I tried to ignore them, but just as I was about to walk away, the nearest one yanked at my sleeve.

  "Hey," she purred, flicking her blonde hair over her shoulder, "You're The Savage Prince, aren't you? The one that was snapped in Club X."

  Aw, fuck, I thought, is there no escape?

  "We saw the pics," said the other one.

  She had on the kind of fake tan that was laid on so thick you knew if you touched her your hand would come away sticky.

  "Good for you," I said, and turned to leave, but they weren't letting me go so easily.

  "Are the rumors true?" said the blonde one. "Are you really a beast in the bedroom?"

  I looked them both over. They weren't the classiest girls I'd ever seen, but they were hot in a cheap and cheerful kind of way and looked as though they knew how to party. By the twinkle in their eyes, and the way their legs grew further apart the closer I approached, I knew all I had to do was snap my fingers and their panties would drop to the floor.

  I thought about all the things I could do to them and how much fun I could have with their tight bodies and bouncing fake breasts. They'd take my mind of Lizzie, anyway, even if it was just for a little while.

  "We'd love to find out if what the papers said are true," said the blonde.

  "Yeah, we wanna see if you're as savage as they say you are."

  She lifted her dress up to her hip to reveal the absence of any underwear.

  They're all mine.

  All I had to do was say the magic word, and they'd in my bed, but for some reason, I found myself waving a hand dismissively and saying, "The rumors aren't true. You know what the papers are like. Always exaggerating everything. Now you two ladies have a good night."

  The disappointment was visible as their faces dropped.

  Wow, I thought. That's a first. Turning down two girls like that. I must be finally growing up. But the truth was that no matter how much meaningless sex I could have, and how fun it could be, nothing could stop me thinking about Lizzie. It was like she'd cast a spell on me, like she was holding my heart for ransom. I gulped down my scotch and tried to drown the butterflies in my stomach, and when that didn't work, I ordered a whole bottle.

  "Philip?" came a voice from behind me.

  I looked over and through the darkness could just about make out the shape of Donald in the back booth, talking into his Dictaphone with a cigarette pinched between his knobbly fingers.

  "Care to join me?" he asked, pointing to the seat in front of him.

  I slid into the booth, pressing the bottle of Jameson at him.

  "I'm sticking to the red wine tonight," he said. "Still recovering from our little soiree."

  "Yeah, that was some night. I take it your wife dragged you out of my suite eventually?"

  "With a whole lot of screaming. Women, eh? Where would we be without them?"

  The girls at the bar giggled, and we both looked over to see them now t
alking to a couple old guys in beige suits and white fedoras.

  They move fast.

  "You're outta luck," said Donald.

  "Aw, boohoo," I laughed. "I think they've forgotten about me already."

  "I thought you'd be right in there. Aren't you supposed to be some Casanova?"

  The thought made me cringe. Why did I have to be lumbered with such a crude reputation? For once, I would have liked to have been known as the smart one or the talented one, not the prince with the golden dick.

  "Not anymore," I told Donald.

  "Oh? So you are in love."

  I said nothing and sipped my drink, tinkling the ice cubes around the bottom of my glass.

  "You are," laughed Donald. "You're actually in love! I told you."

  The redness in my cheeks answered his question.

  "Knew it," he laughed. "Well, I guess she must be something real special to have gotten her claws into your heart."

  "She is," I said, unable to hide the sadness in my voice. "She's a real firecracker."

  The girls at the bar laughed louder. I looked around to see the two guys had ordered them the biggest, most expensive bucket of champagne the bar had to offer. At least someone's having fun, I thought.

  "I've never seen someone in love be so miserable," said Donald. "Don't tell me she's giving you a hard time."

  "She's driving me fucking bananas. She blows hot and cold from one minute to the next. Wants in my pants one day then tells me she doesn't want me the next. It's excruciating. She just wants to have fun."

  Donald sucked on his cigarette and blew out a silken strand of grey smoke that drifted up over his wrinkled face.

  "I don't get it," he said. "Where's the problem in that? You gotta be the first guy ever that would rather a relationship over fun. What has she got? Some kinda diamond pussy or something?"

  "I wouldn't know."

  He froze, cigarette held in his unmoving hand as tough he was trapped in suspended animation.

  "You're telling me you've not even..."

  "Not yet."

  "Jesus fucking Christ," he sighed. "She must be special. If an actual prince like you can't get between her legs, then what hope do the rest of us have?"

  "That's the thing," I said. "She doesn't know who I am."